Another Busy Day
by xCaligula
Summary: Parallel story to A Busy Day. Archie also tends to get carried away with work. Warning: contains omorashi.


**A/N: This story is meant to serve as a parallel to my Maxie fic, just as the games are parallel to each other. Someone requested this, and though I normally only take commissions, not requests (see profile), I really wanted to write this on my own.**

Archibald Aogiri, who preferred to go by Archie because it was much less stiff of a name, was an easygoing, boisterous and fun-loving kind of man. Even so, he was still very dedicated to his cause, and an excellent leader of Team Aqua. He looked after his followers as if they were his own family, practically, and worked hard at everything that he did.

In fact, he was such a hard worker that he would sometimes work for prolonged amounts of time, without taking time for many breaks. But, being the sea-loving man that he was, he always remembered to stay hydrated during these long jaunts of work. So it wasn't uncommon for him to have to stop suddenly and make a quick trip to the bathroom. It wasn't that he tried to wait until he was at his breaking point; it usually just took him up to that point to notice.

Despite his outgoing personality, he was actually quite shy about those matters, and didn't like for anyone to know just how desperate he would become on those long work days. He would always wait until the coast was clear before he took off for the bathroom, and always said a silent prayer for it to be empty when he got there. He really should have had a private one put in in his office.

One day, Archie was even more packed with work than usual. The next day would be really important for Team Aqua, and he wouldn't be able to do much around the base at all. If he didn't want to fall behind, he knew he would have to work double-time to keep caught up.

As usual, he kept a large water bottle with him while he worked that he drank from regularly until he had emptied it. When he went to refill it, he felt a small twinge in his bladder and thought that it would probably be best to go to the bathroom while he was up, to avoid any later discomfort.

He wandered down the hall, passing several people on the way. He would stop to greet each of them, throwing his arm around them and chatting loudly with them, before continuing on his way. He couldn't see someone without making a big production out of it; that was just the way he was.

By the time he finally got somewhere to refill his bottle, fifteen minutes had passed. The pressure on his bladder had grown a little bit, and he decided that he would most definitely go while he was up and about. However, when he entered, he saw someone else and, overtaken by his uncharacteristic shyness, merely washed his hands, made hearty conversation, and left.

When he sat back down in his office, after another fifteen minutes of meet-and-greets in the hallway, he sighed loudly. It was just so unlike him to be shy about _anything_; he was sure people expected him to be the type to openly- and vulgarly- admit to his needs and go to take care of it without a problem. Yet no matter how hard he had practiced, he was unable to do such a thing.

He tried once again to practice, hoping that no one would burst in unexpectedly and see what he was up to. "Time out guys, I gotta..." He trailed off, then shook his head. He was alone, dammit, he could at least say it now! "Igottatakeapiss."

"Argh!" He slammed his hands down on his desk, frustrated. It just _didn't make sense_. Even his quiet frustration was loud and proud, so why this one little thing? And now he was sitting in his office, slowly getting more and more desperate, and he was too damn shy to be seen going to the bathroom.

He fidgeted in his seat, deciding to get a bit more work down and distract himself. There was no point in wasting time wondering about when he should try to go again when he could be accomplishing something. He was quickly absorbed back into it, and didn't even notice as he took more drinks from his water bottle. It was just a force of habit for him.

~X~

After making a significant amount of progress, he suddenly realized exactly what he had done and the gravity of his actions. He had managed to empty his bottle once again, and he wished that he had been paying better attention. Now, he was unable to keep still and felt as if he was going to lose control at any minute, and he was still steadily filling!

_I can't keep waitin' around like this_, he thought, standing up. He nearly doubled over from the unbelievable pressure he felt on his bladder, and wondered how he was going to be able to walk to the bathroom without anyone noticing. He shifted his weight, hesitating to step out the door. If he passed even one person, he was sure that they would see just how desperate he was.

He could not afford to worry about that and started to walk toward the door. His steps were slow and labored, and he had to stop abruptly every now and then to cross his legs. Normally, his office was much too small for his tastes, but today, it seemed to stretch on and on, for miles. With all the water he had added to his problem, his need was growing rapidly.

Almost to the door, he had to stop, buckling his knees and shoving a hand between his legs. He realized how pathetic he would look doing something like this, and again hoped that no one tried to come in. To see a large, muscular man like him, usually cocky and confident, reduced to a child like this, would be quite a sight.

He tried to straighten up and walk normally, but he couldn't. It hit him then that, not only would he not be able to conceal this from anyone, he most likely would not even make it. He didn't know what his options were now- he wasn't going to make it to the bathroom, but he couldn't just stand here.

His eyes wandered the room, looking for a solution. _The bottle_! He wondered why he hadn't thought of something like this sooner. He could just do it in the bottle and no one would have to know. He reached out and locked his office door, then turned around to begin hobbling back to his desk.

"Come on, Archie," he mumbled to himself. "You got this, no sweat!" Each step was painful on his bladder, but he urged himself on, longing for the relief that awaited him once he reached his desk. Finally, he was there! He reached for his bottle, and started to unscrew the cap.

"No!" he shouted angrily, when the cap proved to be screwed on tighter than he expected. Of course, his desperation made his hands weaker and shakier than they were when he had closed the bottle, and he struggle to open it, clenching his thighs together as tightly as possible.

Just as he finally got the lid off, it hit him with devastating certainty that it was too late and he had already lost. A small trickle slipped out, and another. Though he grabbed himself and tried to stop it, it only came out with greater force, until a strong stream of piss leaked out of him, soaking his clothes.

He grit his teeth and clenched his fists, hanging his head in shame as his bladder emptied out. A puddle began to form at his feet, splashing on his boots. He couldn't believe that he had actually wet himself like this, when he had been so close.

The relief felt amazing, but he was too humiliated to appreciate it. The stream had at last stopped, but he just stood there in disbelief. All of this, because he had some weird inhibition about anyone knowing when he went to the bathroom. From this day on, he swore that he wouldn't let that get in the way ever again.

And as Archie began his cleanup, he decided that maybe there was such a thing as too much water. Sometimes.


End file.
